


Treading Water

by broodysince1680



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Carmilla-centric, F/F, Fluff, Other, POV Third Person, Plot, Romance, Time Travel, Time Travel AU, this is my first fic i hope you like it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodysince1680/pseuds/broodysince1680
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the small seaside town of Silas, it'd be impossible for the villagers' lives not to be intertwined in some way. After LaFontaine reveals a way for Carmilla to alter her past, she discovers the link between her new coworker Laura Hollis, and the tragic death of her childhood best friend.</p><p>AKA: Time Traveller! Carmilla</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_‘An eight year old girl has died; despite being rescued, after she was spotted in the water on Silas beach. Following a warning of an impending storm, those on the beach were instructed not to go into the water and advised to evacuate due to the weather making the current unpredictable. At approximately 4:17pm, Ell Martin, along with another unnamed girl, was spotted in the water. Both girls were rescued and taken to Silas General Hospital, where the eight year old died from cardiac arrest in the early morning on January 21st.’_

( . . . )

Silas was mostly a quiet town; its streets were lined mainly with ice-cream and seaside curiosity shops, and from September through to May the sighting of more than ten people in a day was a rarity. Carmilla liked that; she liked keeping to herself and maintaining her ‘air of mystery’ (a phrase she used anytime a one night stand tried to get more information out of her). 

She’d always turned her nose up at the idea of working in one of the poky shops along the sea front; too claustrophobic and too large a dose of people for her liking. Nevertheless, she’d managed to wind up slumped against the counter at Perry’s, surrounded by overpriced painted seashells and pebbles that anyone with half a brain could see had just been taken from the shore and listening to her co-worker babble on about one of ill thought out ideas on how to bring in more business. 

She’d only met Laura three weeks ago, but the other girl had already attempted to give her a nickname, pestered her for her number so they could “Get to know each other and be friends! We’ll be together all summer, it’ll be fun!”, and when she eventually did give it to her, Laura proceeded to send her various Doctor Who references and theories she had regarding various relationships on the show. 

Maybe Carmilla didn’t like the swarms of people that invaded Silas during summer, or that she was stuck in working a summer job in Perry’s to get the rent paid, but she liked Laura.

She looked over at the other girl who was still rambling about something or other, she had her usual perky grin plastered on her face and the light hit her head in such a way that her hair turned to honey.

Yeah. Carmilla liked Laura. 

“Hey! Did you even hear what I said?”

Carmilla smirked, “I could take an educated guess. _Oh, Carmilla, you’re educated, great company AND you have great skin? How DO you do it?_ ” She flashed Laura a grin, “Am I close?”

“No, oh my god.” Laura rolled her eyes, and Carmilla pretended she didn’t notice that Laura’s cheeks looked a little pinker than usual, “I was just saying how I feel like expanding the amount of stuff we sell would really bring in customers, you know? Like, appeal to the teenagers that come here in the summer with maybe…stuff to do with pop culture? Certain shows, maybe?” Laura tried to give a shrug, as if she thought Carmilla didn’t know this was something she was genuinely excited by.

“You know, I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re genuinely saying we should invest money in Doctor Who merchandise to sell, purely so you don’t have to wait three to five working days for your magic hammers and whatnot to be delivered. I’m sure Perry will be impressed with your _clearly_ entrepreneurial way of thinking.” Carmilla said dryly, allowing a small smile to creep onto her face as Laura did her trademark sign of annoyance; a furrowed brow and wrinkled nose.

“Seriously? Carmilla, we’ve been over this. The Doctor has a sonic screwdriver; a magic hammer would be completely ridiculous.”

Carmilla snorted, “I would’ve thought the ridiculous thing would be man flying through space in a box, but hey, whatever you say, cupcake.”

“Hey! Just… shut up, okay? It’s a good show! Now come help me unpack the boxes out back, Perry’s gonna be mad if we haven’t done it. I used to be fairly efficient till you started working here, you know.” She tried to sound matter of fact, but under Carmilla’s gaze the end of her sentence came out as more of a mumble. 

“Hm.” Carmilla quirked her eyebrow, turning her back to Laura as she rummaged behind the counter, “Good to know you find me so distracting.” She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know that Laura was getting more exasperated and flushed by the minute.

“Firstly, that is _not_ what I said!” The brunette protested indignantly, “and secondly, _what_ are you doing? I refuse to be made to do all the unpacking like last week because that made me really ma-“

A light jangling sound interrupted Laura’s rant, “I’m getting the keys, you know, for the back room? Try not to have an aneurism, cutie.”

( . . . )

There was a burnt smell in the air as Carmilla came out of the elevator of her apartment building, she was pretty sure it was coming from her home. Her suspicions were confirmed two minutes later as she saw thin plumes of green smoke sneaking out from the gap underneath her front door. This was the third time this month she’d come home to this.

“LaF?” She turned the key in the lock, opening the door to reveal her roommate picking something up off of the floor, “What the fuck is this?”

Lafontaine squinted through the slight mist that had settled in the apartment and gave Carmilla an exasperated look, “I’m busy, Karnstein. Science stuff.”

“Busy with what? Trying to give us both carbon monoxide poisoning?” Carmilla wafted her hands out in front of her in a futile attempt to clear the air and suddenly identified what LaFontaine had been picking up off of the floor, “Did you stamp on our fucking smoke detector?”

Running their hand through their ginger mop, LaFontaine sighed, “It would’ve gone off, the whole block would’ve been evacuated, the fire brigade would be called and then I’d have to issue an apology. What I’m working on is truly hardcore, and you know what I say, never apo-“

“Never apologise for the hardcore, yeah , I know.” Carmilla interrupted snarkily, “Just for god’s sake, open the windows to air this place out.” There was a light buzzing sound as Carmilla’s phone vibrated in her pocket.

“I have, the fog’s already thinning, see?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, kicking off her boots as she sank into the couch, “Ever planning on telling me what you’ve been working on for god knows how long?” Another buzz came from Carmilla’s pants.

“I’m trying to achieve genius, all I can say is I’m getting pretty close.” They shrugged at Carmilla nonchalantly, “Your phone’s gone off twice now, you know.” 

“It’s just Laura.” Carmilla tried her best to sound unaffected, maybe she secretly was longing to see what the girl was saying, to just put her nerves aside and ask her out. Or maybe she wasn’t. Either way, it wasn’t something LaFontaine needed to know about.

“It’s totally obvious you have a thing for her, you know.” LaFontaine grinned, “You always do this. You find a girl and you keep her at arm’s length so you won’t get attached, that way, if something happens to her, you don’t get hurt.” They nodded, “What happened with Ell was sad, but it doesn’t mean something’s always going to go wrong.”

“As cute as your attempt to analyse me is, you’ll be disappointed to know that despite one childhood tragedy, I remain emotionally stable.”

LaFontaine faked a disappointed look, “Damn. Really thought I had you all figured out there, Karnstein.” They didn’t miss the hint of a smile on Carmilla’s face, “I guess that couldn’t be it, you keep me around, after all.”

“Well, you considering you only go outside to go to work and to flirt with my mysophobic boss, I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine.”

“Perry just appreciates cleanliness and hygiene!” LaFontaine protested, “And I don’t flirt with her, she’s a…good friend.” They finished with a mumble.

“Oh, I’m sure.” Carmilla raised her eyebrow as she fiddled with her phone. Two texts from Laura.

 **Doctor Whollis:** hey! [18:36]  
**Doctor Whollis:** i was thinking we could do something together sometime??? idk like if u wanted to, to get to know each other [18:38]

(Carmilla had stupidly let Laura input her details into her phone. She would change the name but, Laura had laughed so hard at her own pun she got a little teary, and Carmilla couldn’t bring herself to do it.) 

“Yeah, she is. A good friend. Just like your good friend, Laura.” LaFontaine replied brightly.

Carmilla gave them a withering look as they gravitated back towards the laundry room. LaFontaine called it ‘the Lab’. Carmilla had never been in, LaFontaine hadn’t even allowed her access when they were showing her around the apartment, but one time she saw something that resembled an old washing machine. She wasn’t sure why secrecy was needed when washing clothes, but if LaFontaine didn’t want her in there, she’d respect that.

The door to the laundry room closed behind them, and Carmilla turned her attention back to her phone. Laura was a dork, and kind of annoying sometimes. But the idea of a day out that didn’t consist of unpacking and displaying Silas memorabilia was definitely an appealing one.

 **Carmilla:** What did you have in mind? [18:42]  
**Doctor Whollis:** how about the ice cream parlour after work tomorrow? let’s stay away from the beach, sick of it [18:43]  
**Carmilla:** Sounds great. And considering I’ve seen you fall at least ten times in the past three weeks, I second that keeping you away from large bodies of water is a good one. [18:55]  
**Doctor Whollis:** yay!!!!!!! and u have no idea :P [19:04]

( . . . )

Icescream! was one of those shops that Carmilla always saw, but never acknowledged. A cardboard standee of a personified icecream cone with a name card reading ‘Freezy’ leered by the front door. It’s cut out speech bubble read, “For when your heart just screams ICECREAM!”, but Carmilla thought Freezy’s wide eyes just screamed for help. Nevertheless, it seemed to entice in swarms of children. And Laura, apparently.

“Laura? Hey!”

Carmilla looked over and tried to mask a look of surprise as a surprisingly puppy like man lolloped over to greet Laura. Watching as Laura embraced him, Carmilla suddenly wondered if Laura even liked girls. The fact she’d had this thought irritated her, but the idea Laura might be straight; or already be dating someone, had only just occurred to her.  
“It’s so great to see you!” Laura gushed, “Hey, Carm! This is Kirsch, we’ve been friends for years.”

Carmilla; trying to ignore the feeling of relief that Kirsch wasn’t Laura’s boyfriend, which at least meant she had some taste, held out her hand. “Carmilla. Though apparently it’s Carm now.”

“Nice to meet you, Carm…” Kirsch trailed off, screwing up his face as he tried to remember the last part of her name, “Carmsexy?” He guessed, offering a sheepish grin when Carmilla silently sucked her teeth in response. 

“So, uh, I guess we’ll be ordering now?” It sounded as if Laura was asking herself more than anyone, “I’ll have the usual, and Carmilla will-“

“Ordering for me already, sweetheart? Didn’t know we’d reached that point in our relationship.” Carmilla interrupted, partly because she wasn’t a fan of that whole ‘ordering for your date’ thing (even though she was pretty sure this wasn’t a date), but also in hope that if she made Laura squirm enough it would help her to determine whether she was interested. 

“Oh!” Kirsch’s eyebrows shot up, “You guys are a thing? That’s so…” He waved him hands about in excitement, as if trying to grasp the right word.

“Hot? Sexy?” Carmilla filled in, god, guys were disgusting.

“Dude, no.” His tone was suddenly cold, “I was gonna say great. After all that messy Danny stuff, it’s awesome she’s found someone new.” He nodded seriously, “Plus.” He cracked a smile, “You’re totally hot.”

“We aren’t dating, Kirsch.” Laura said weakly, obviously embarrassed, she turned to Carmilla, “And I was just gonna say you’d like to hear the options, so...” She trailed off awkwardly, clearly unable to think of a retort.

“Relax, cutie.” Carmilla’s tone softened momentarily, she turned to Kirsch, “I’ll have vanilla.”

“Alright!” Kirsch bounded off to behind the counter, and Carmilla followed Laura over to a table by the window.

Taking the seat opposite to Laura, Carmilla watched as the other girl twiddled her thumbs, “So, how do you and him know each other?”

“High school. Some guy was following me around telling me how hot it was that I was a lesbian, Kirsch just sprung out of nowhere and gave him this lecture.” Laura broadened her shoulders, puffed out her chest and growled out, “Uh, calling a gay chick hot? Not cool, dude. Even if she is, she only wants to hear it from other chicks. Objectification of women is messed up, bro.” 

So, Laura was gay.

Carmilla laughed, running her hand through her hair, “Well, at least puppy boy’s politically correct.”

Laura grinned at the nickname, “I saw him try to scratch his ear with his foot once, no word of a lie.”

Offering a small smile back, Carmilla fell silent. She’d been in this situation before. Being with a pretty girl, having feelings she wasn’t sure if she wanted to explore. She could see Laura was trying to think of something to say, maybe she was unsure too, but maybe not in the same way. 

It turned out neither of them had to say anything.

“One strawberry sundae for Laura!” Kirsch announcing, coming out of nowhere and placing the glass bowl down with a flourish, “And one vanilla icecream!” He presented Carmilla with her icecream, “That should cool you two hotties down.” He grinned at them before bounding over to another table.

Laura gazed at her icecream in adoration, “I think this is possibly my favourite place in Silas.”

“An icecream shop?” Carmilla rolled her eyes, “How incredibly dull.” She dug her spoon into the bowl.

“Says the girl who ordered vanilla icecream.”

“Hey.” Carmilla lowered her voice, “My icecream may be vanilla, but I’m sure as hell not.” She winked across the table at the other girl, giving her spoonful of icecream a long lick, maintaining eye contact throughout.

Laura dropped her gaze, an evident blush forming, “You’re ridiculous.” She mumbled, “When I said I wanted to get to know each other better, this is NOT what I meant.”

“It isn’t?” Carmilla faked a surprised look, “And here I was thinking that the best way to seduce a girl was to take her to an icecream parlour who has a mascot called _Freezy._ ”

“Like you could think of a better name.” Laura challenged.

Carmilla smirked, replying without missing a beat, “Anything would be better than that Haagen Dazs-aster.”

Laura seemed like she was trying not to smile, “Okay, that was clever.” 

With no attempt to modesty, Carmilla simply nodded in response.

The silence they fell into was comfortable, interrupted only by the clinking of Laura’s spoon. Carmilla allowed her gaze to stray from Laura to out the window, she tried not to, but she looked over at the beach. Even from the parlour, she could hear the crash of the waves against the shore.

The clinking had stopped.

Out of the corner of her eye, Carmilla could see Laura had followed her stare; there were multiple things she didn’t understand about Laura, for starters: her enthusiasm for pretty much everything, her love of Doctor Who.

But, the one that confused her most of all was the spooked look in Laura’s eyes whenever Silas beach was in sight.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been an uneventful evening, Carmilla hadn’t heard from LaF since the incoherent greeting they gave her upon her arrival back at the apartment. It had been another day of working at Perry’s, or rather, another day of talking to Laura whilst Perry bustled in and out to remind them that she wasn’t paying them to enrich their sex lives. To which Laura would immediately start ranting about how damaging it is to assume that women are interested in each other just because they’re gay, which maybe would’ve come across as empowering or progressive if it wasn’t for the fact that she’d been blushing the entire time- which slightly undermined her case.

There weren’t many moments to just be whilst at Perry’s, and whilst Carmilla had always enjoyed solitude and the pleasure of silent contemplation, it kept her mind from wandering; stopped the thoughts about _her_. But strangely, it was on nights like these, when LaFontaine had decided to refrain from attempting to blow themselves up for a rare moment, that Carmilla found the worst. 

Guilt kills silence. You could be the only person left in the world, but if you have regret, you’re never truly alone. To Carmilla, it was like the sea at Silas Beach. Guilt comes in waves, drawing back just long enough for you to venture along the shore, maybe build a castle or write a letter in the sand; but it would always come back. Wipe out all the progress. Drown you, if it could. Carmilla had never been a particularly strong swimmer, but she’d managed to keep her head above water. She treaded it the best she could. There had been times where she thought she might slip under, lose herself. But those times were behind her now, for the most part anyway. She knew what happened wasn’t really her fault, she’d only been a child, but loss changes you, makes you go over the events in your head. Over and over and over. Till the question stops being: why did that happen? And becomes: Why didn’t I do something?

“Well?” Carmilla looked at her faint reflection in the window, “Why didn’t you?”

And the answer was always the same: Because the only way to know she could’ve done something was through hindsight. Of course Carmilla knew now that there was no way Ell could’ve saved that girl, how could an eight year old run into a storm and come back with the other girl, both still alive? When you’re young you think you’re invincible.  
Things were feeling a bit heavy. Carmilla found herself hoping that LaFontaine would come running in with their head ablaze and sprouting two extra limbs, just a bit of normality. And yet, the apartment remained eerily quiet. There had been no explosions this evening, no abuse of their smoke detector (their third one this month) or even anymore of those weird plumes of green smoke. 

Suddenly, a succession of buzzing noises came from Carmilla’s bedside table. She slid off the window sill and grabbed her phone. 

**Doctor Whollis:** do u wanna do something again soon??? [20:34]  
**Doctor Whollis:** bc like it was super fun with u at icescream last week [20:34]  
**Doctor Whollis:** we could go somewhere or u could come over and we could watch netflix or smth :D !!!! [20:34]  
**Carmilla:** Didn’t have you pegged as a Netflix and chill kind of girl, this is quite the surprise ;) [20:36]  
**Doctor Whollis:** >:( u wish [20:37]  
**Doctor Whollis:** u don’t have to i was just wondering [20:37]  
**Carmilla:** I’ll come by sometime. Since you miss me so much…[20:37]  
**Doctor Whollis:** YAY!!!!!!!!! Im at 4 briddlesford road :D when are u free [20:37]

Carmilla was just about to type a response, when suddenly the lights went out. Not just her reading light, but the main light, and all the lights out on the street she could see from her window. 

A triumphant yell of “YES!” sounded from somewhere else in the apartment, LaFontaine’s ‘lab’ Carmilla assumed.

“What the…”

For a moment she was confused. Then she realised: LaFontaine caused the power outage. She had no goddamn idea how they did it, or why they would want to, but here she was sitting in the dark at the expense of LaF’s “hardcore” experiment. 

“LaFontaine?” Carmilla called out as she stumbled around her room, relying on the dim light of her phone screen to keep her from concussion via book shelf or twisted ankle via all the shit on her floor that LaFontaine constantly told she should pick up. She trailed one hand along the wall as she made her way out into the hallway.  
Carmilla wasn’t surprised to find the door to the laundry room locked, but the light pulsing out through the crack between the door and the floor was definitely new.  
She was in the middle of a power cut, with a roommate who was celebrating plunging the entire street into darkness and a weird throbbing light; and yet Carmilla couldn’t help but think what a kick Laura would get out of all of this. If it wasn’t for the fact that she would’ve definitely wanted to launch a full scale investigation at the first mention of LaF’s secret room, Carmilla probably would’ve told her about it by now; if not as a good conversation starter, then as an excuse to see Laura’s nose crinkle as it always did whenever something baffled her. 

“LaF?” Carmilla called out to them again. She received no response. Well then, she thought, fuck the no entry rule. Without a second thought she surged forward, she’d given LaFontaine their space for months now. She deserved some kind of explanation. She got that they were completely and utterly emotionally constipated, and probably hadn’t considered the personal feelings she might have about the lack of warning regarding the regular explosions; just the explosions in general, really: but she’d been patient, hadn’t she? She turned the door handle. Nothing happened. It was locked.

Of course it was. Carmilla sighed to herself, somewhat disappointed in that she’d expected to just be able to walk in. 

“Is that you, Karnstein?” LaFontaine’s voice sounded from inside. To her surprise, they didn’t sound irritated or wary. In fact, Carmilla had never heard them sound like this.

“Well I don’t see anyone else out here that’s willing to deal with your nonsense.” She replied snarkily; which was definitely because she was tired of all this big mystery bullshit, and not because standing alone in a dark hall way freaked her out a little bit. 

There was the sound of footsteps and a click as they turned a key in the lock. “Hey.” They grinned at her, their face illuminated by a light source behind them that Carmilla couldn’t quite make out from where she was standing. 

Carmilla looked at them quizzically, “You’re letting me in? And grinning like a Cheshire cat whilst you do it.” She paused for a moment before looking at them in mock fear, “Don’t tell me you’ve been pod peopled, Frankenstein.”

“No. It’s me. I did it, Karnstein. I did it.” It was at this point Carmilla noticed wild look in LaFontaine’s eyes, like they were truly alive for the first time. Something about it worried her. She didn’t like being kept in the dark like this; both literally and figuratively. 

“What did you do?” She intended the question to come across as bored and impatient. And yet she found herself not able to speak above a whisper. Their body blocked the door way, and their face, unusually close to hers, blocked her vision.

They stared at her for a moment; ten, maybe twenty seconds. Carmilla wasn’t sure what it was they were looking for, but they seemed to find it. “You can’t tell anyone. And you have to do what I say. Promise?”

“Tell anyone about what? Goddamit LaF, I swear-“

“Do you promise?” They interrupted impatiently, “I need to show you. I need to show someone. But I need you to promise.”  
Carmilla gritted her teeth, narrowing her eyes at them. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into, but she didn’t have any plans other than moping this evening, so, what the hell, right?

“I promise.”

LaFontaine gave her a careful nod, and then slowly stepped out of the way. 

For the first time, Carmilla stepped into the laundry room.  
The room held a heat that the rest of the apartment didn’t. The walls were covered not with wallpaper, but with messily scrawled equations and blue prints. A large metal contraption juddered almost silently in the corner with meters of cable spilling out of one of its sides which lead to a box shaped machine which had a weird, pale glow to it and an array of buttons labelled things like ‘spin cycle’ and ‘cottons’. “Is…is that a washing machine?” 

“Used to be.” LaFontaine nodded, resting a hand gently on top of it. “I used the parts for a basic structure. Although I reconfigured the button functions. I wasn’t trying to achieve clean laundry, after all.” They laughed slightly, as if Carmilla should already know what the machine was. 

“What were you trying to achieve?” She asked, utterly perplexed, “What the fuck is it?”

They grinned again, manically. “A time machine.” They broke into a sudden yell, “That’s what the fuck it is!”

Carmilla squinted at them in confusion, “You been spending time with Laura recently, LaF? If this is some kind of Doctor Who joke, you should know I don’t buy into that crap.”  
LaFontaine gave a long sigh in response, which they often seemed to do when talking to Carmilla about science. It was like they were disappointed that the rest of the world couldn’t see something they did, as if they felt there was something obvious that wasn’t being grasped.

“It’s not a reference.” They sounded bored, “Watches are regulated by a tiny crystal of quartz that, when supplied with energy, have atoms that move back and forth. It was originally thought that they required a constant supply of energy to do this, but they don’t! You see?” They looked at her excitedly, “All it takes is one large energy supply, and the atoms will keep going and going and going.” They gestured to the metal contraption in the corner, “All it took was harnessing all the electricity that would usually go to Silas. There were other factors, but I assumed you wanted an answer for the power cut.” They shook their head, “You see?”

“Wait a minute.” Carmilla held her hand up, “You mean it’s not just our street that had a power cut, but the entirety of Silas?”

LaFontaine shrugged, “That’s pretty much the gist of it, yeah. It’s not like the power’s gone indefinitely, I just took what I needed. Power cuts happen all the time, you know that. Especially during storm season.”

Carmilla stared at them. Storm season. “It’s not storm season right now.” She mumbled. LaFontaine said something in response but she didn’t hear them, she wasn’t listening. She was caught up in the fact that there was potentially a time machine sitting in front of her right now, she didn’t believe in that Doctor Who bullshit but if it really worked, that meant she could use it. Go back to that day. See her.  
No, fuck that, she could save her.  
Go back and tell Ell not to go into the sea. Go back and tell Ell that no one was a strong enough swimmer to save that girl, not even her, no matter how invincible she thought she was. Carmilla matched LaFontaine's manic expression. She didn’t even know if it really worked, why and how it could possibly work. But, if it did…

“How do you know it works?”

“I ran some tests.” They said nonchalantly. “I’ve used it. At first it worked for maybe…a minute?” They furrowed their brows in an effort to remember, “I didn’t have enough power for it to work any longer than that. Obviously, I’ve made some adjustments since then. I’m yet to test it, but it should be that one body can travel back to a previous period of time for about half an hour before their matter returns to their timeline.”

“I can test it for you.” Carmilla offered, perhaps a little too quickly. She had no intention of asking LaFontaine for permission to go back to Ell; to go back for Ell. She knew what they’d say, she’d get the whole ‘rip in the space time continuum’ spiel and then they’d lock the door or transport the entire contents of the room elsewhere and that’d be it. Over. On some level she knew that, if LaFontaine had successfully done what they’d claimed, it wasn’t fair to use the machine like that.  
To lie to them.  
But an eight year old girl dying before she’d really had the chance to live, that wasn’t fair either. To have everything taken like that, so suddenly, so abruptly. All the firsts she’d never had: first kiss, first job, first drink. Her first time in Paris, London, Tokyo…her first time anywhere other than this shitty, shitty town. They were going to do those firsts together; they were going to travel the world together; they’d pinkie promised on it so it was official. They used to build blanket forts, crouching inside as they poured over glossy magazines Ell had taken from her Mom.  
They’d made a scrapbook: “Ell and Carmilla’s Travel Book”, in which they’d stick cut out pictures of everywhere they were going to go. Each one carefully labelled, with elaborately constructed lists of what they’d do there.  
Carmilla wished she had it now. But she’d given it to her Mother to put in Ell’s coffin. She didn’t want to look at it anymore, and in a moment of childish naivety she swore she’d never go to anywhere mentioned in that book. She didn’t know if it made it in there, but maybe that was a good thing. After all, what use was a book of the future to a girl who would never leave Silas cemetery? 

“This is something I need to do on my own.”

Carmilla gritted her teeth. She was ashamed the thought even crossed her mind that it could be that easy. “Of course.” She shrugged with the type of nonchalance it takes many years to perfect. “Whatever.”

“You’re taking all this…remarkably well.” From anyone else it would’ve sounded suspicious, but the way LaFontaine said it made it sound like praise. “But, then again. You’ve always been about as emotionally expressive as a walnut.”

Carmilla chuckled slightly, in a time of hope like this even LaFontaine’s constant bluntness was weirdly endearing. The fact they’d unknowingly given her a pathway back to her childhood, one that so many long to walk on, made her feel a weird rush of affection for them, as if she should hug them. She shut this feeling down instantly.  
“Yeah. Well, I guess it’s the relief of not having to worry if you’re going to accidentally blow your head off in the name of science. Compared to the threat of having to wipe grey matter off the walls, this isn’t even a big deal.” 

But it was a big deal. A huge deal, in fact.

Carmilla’s summer hadn’t started how she’d expected. What with the crappy job selling painted rocks from the beach to tourists; who didn’t seem to have much of an intellectual advantage over what they were purchasing, that was really the only option considering Silas wasn’t really where dreams were made, but more where they go to die.

So, despite the sheer surrealist feel of it all, coming up with a plan to forever alter the course of time and un-drown her childhood best friend seemed like a bit of an upgrade. 

( . . . )

Carmilla had never been the manipulative type. Cold and callous? Yes, if she needed to be. But never exploitative. However, it couldn’t be said that she hadn’t taken into account LaFontaine’s lack of awareness and concern regarding the thoughts and feelings of others. It wasn’t that they didn’t care; it was just that what they paid attention to came down to the level of importance they felt it held. So, unless Carmilla confessed to what she was planning to do, the likelihood of it even occurring to them was fairly low.

The time machine was their top priority, which came as no surprise, because science always had been. Carmilla had never found it to interest her personally, she found philosophy far more captivating, and yet she could understand the appeal of choosing science over people. With science you had variables and risk assessments, factors of every experiment that you could carefully evaluate and determine, and then put procedures in place in order to minimise the risks and have complete control over the situation. If an atom loses an electron, that’s it. There’s no feeling of attachment, no sense of loss. An atom may be changed physically in terms of its charge, but it doesn’t experience an emotional response. Not like people. You can study people too, run risk assessments and work out the variables. Maybe even apply algorithms to social situations, if the patterns are apparent.

But, studying people as if they're a sub culture in a petri dish tends to piss them off. They tend to do things atoms would never do. For instance, Carmilla thought, LaFontaine never has to worry about an atom stabbing them in the back.  
The unpredictability of human nature gave Carmilla the advantage. She could ask questions about their work, provided that she kept a certain level of subtlety, acting as if they came from a place of pure scientific curiosity. They always answered her; perhaps if they’d stopped scribbling down endless notes and ideas regarding the time machine, they might’ve looked up and thought about the nature of the questions she was asking them and the nature of the information they were giving away. But they didn’t, and although Carmilla’s stomach sank along with her integrity every time it happened, for that she was grateful. 

She’d initially planned to meet up with Laura this weekend, but had changed her plans to essentially shadowing LaF. She told Laura something had come up, and she understood. Laura was good like that. Optimistic and caring. She wondered if, when Ell came back, she’d be like that too. Maybe she, Ell and Laura would all be friends. Ell would really like Laura, Carmilla was sure of that. They both had a strong sense of belief, for one thing. A good moral compass. Not that Carmilla was by any means unethical in comparison, it was just that she’d never known any two people to be more self-sacrificing. Ell, hurtling into a strong tide to help a girl struggling to swim; a girl she didn’t even know. 

And Laura, who had told Carmilla of the time she helped in a missing person’s case, and then been genuinely flustered and surprised when Carmilla told her she couldn’t wait till Laura was a world famous journalist, and she could tell everyone how she knew Laura Hollis before she became THE Laura Hollis. When she was just a young woman, trying to make ends meet in a seaside shop with her neat freak boss and co-worker who would probably never make it out of town, even if she sold every pebble on the goddamn beach. She wasn’t quite sure why she had said that to her at the time. But the way Laura had frowned at her and told her very firmly with her hands on her hips that she should ‘cut Debbie downer out of her life and make friends with optimistic Owen’ made her glad that she did. It was one of the most ridiculous things Carmilla had ever heard, and perhaps she would’ve mocked it, but Laura said it like she’d heard it a million times before, and if those were the words that got Laura to be who she is today, then if anything Carmilla should be thanking whoever came up with them.

It was easy to get side-tracked. She’d been getting ahead of herself recently. She should be focussed on when to make her move, how to get into the room, what else she needed to know. But she found herself envisioning Ell. What she looked like, her voice…would they even still be friends now? Admittedly, Carmilla was doing this partly for herself. Of course she was. Being able to take away the days where she did nothing but cry, and the nightmare plagued sleep was very appealing. Maybe after this she’d be different too, less worn down. More hopeful for the future. 

Perhaps alternate Carmilla still made scrapbooks of where she wanted to go and what she wanted to see. She bet that alternate Carmilla still went down to the sea too. She had been since what happened with Ell, of course she had. Life had to move on, even if she hadn’t wanted it to, and maybe she’d never fully stopped dragging her feet as she made her way through the years. But the beach wasn’t the same anymore, how could it be? 

Paris wasn’t the same anymore and all she’d ever seen of it was pictures in magazines. 

It was time for change. Over the past two days Carmilla had managed to get a rough idea of how exactly the time machine worked. It couldn’t travel through space, only time. Meaning, when she used it she would arrive in this apartment. She wasn’t sure who had lived here before her and LaFontaine, nor did she know how exactly to tackle the issue of materializing in a stranger’s home, but she’d deal with the issue when she got to it. 

LaFontaine had now apparently used the machine, as a test to see if it worked. She did press them for details on this, but it was an unremarkable event. They simply zapped themselves to this time last year, made sure they still had all their limbs and that everything felt functioning, and then zapped back again. This confused Carmilla a little. “Why even bother going to all the trouble of making this if all you’re going to do is flit back and forth like a demented blue bottle?” Had they not built the machine for a purpose? To observe history as it happened in front of them? (Although, due to power related issues, they reckoned the furthest someone could go back with the machine was probably about twenty years).

In response to Carmilla’s question LaFontaine simply shrugged and said, “I thought I could make it. So I tried, and I proved myself right.” And that’s all there was to it. Which Carmilla found sort of impressive, the idea that someone could make something this complex; this idealized, and to do it for no reason other than because they felt like it. Because they thought they were clever enough, and they were. She wouldn’t be surprised if, come this time next month, they were absorbed in something completely new. 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, she reasoned, breaking in like this. This wasn’t LaFontaine’s first project, and it wouldn’t be their last. In a way she was helping to give their work purpose.

She was currently outside the door to the Lab, blindly stabbing at the keyhole with a piece of wire in hope that she could somehow open the door with instructions she’d found on ‘Wikihow’ (she’d gotten pretty desperate). After about twenty minutes or so of crouching in the dark hallway attempting to wiggle the wire in just the right way, Carmilla heard a click.

She crept into the Lab. The light the machine had been emitting two days prior had faded, leaving Carmilla with only her phone screen as a guide as she rifled through loose sheets of paper with LaFontaine’s calculations scribbled on them. It took some time, but she eventually found the final blue print for the time machine, on which the functions of the buttons and dials were carefully labelled and the order in which they needed to be used.

Carmilla took the sheet over to the time machine with her, standing in front of where the washing machine door would’ve once been. There were several tiny cameras in a line across the top, each individually lit up as, following the instructions, she turned the first dial on the left hand side to ‘spin cycle’. She followed the blue print, inputting codes into various keypads she hadn’t previously noticed, configuring the settings as her hands trembled. The machine trembled with her, gently at first, but it became more and more violent the more buttons she pressed. She frantically raced to finish, scared LaFontaine might come in and stop her. Scared if they did, that she might not ever find the courage to try this again. 

There was no time for regret now; Carmilla had dedicated her whole life to that. She stood perfectly still as the cameras on the front scanned her; LaFontaine had briefly mentioned a syncing process. Essentially it bonds its matter to yours, allowing movement through time. Due to the syncing, the machine itself does not move to occupy the same new physical space as the user, it instead had a sort of 'remote control' which users could use in order to send a command to the machine to transport their matter back to the time line they'd came from; Carmilla had this in her pocket in case she managed to royally screw up (which was likely, what with her lack of experience in permanently changing the world's time line). 

She wasn’t sure if it was the syncing, or if it was nerves. But she felt different. Lighter somehow. She saw the room her around her, and yet she didn’t feel entirely there anymore. The input option came up on the small screen in-between two of the sync cameras, and before she could pause to hesitate or change her mind, Carmilla reached out and tapped in:

_

January 20th, 2003. 16:00.

_


	3. Chapter 3

Time travel wasn’t something Carmilla had particularly applied much thought to in her life, what with it being a popular misconception that it was possible only in science fiction, but she’d assumed it would be a little like flying. There was a part of her that thought that, after the completion of the syncing process, she’d simply float up into space and then hurtle through the dimensions of time like some sort of human comet.  
That wasn’t the case. 

To Carmilla’s annoyance, what actually came to mind during the process were the Lush bath bomb videos that plagued her social media feeds (and were the bane of her _fucking_ life). But that’s what it felt like, as if your entire being was fizzing. It had been slow at first, but quickened in pace as the machine continued to shake and whir; and then Carmilla watched as her world was ripped from around her. It was as if her apartment had just been a drawing in someone’s sketchpad and they’d simply grabbed the page and torn it out; she felt it, the sensation of her world being whisked from under her feet as her body tingled and sparked as if it were spitting electricity. 

All of a sudden, out of literally nothing, a voice sliced through the air. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my laundry room?”

Carmilla spun round to meet the owner of the voice, her shoes squeaked on the wooden floor that had just, less than a second ago, disappeared from beneath her. She came face to face with a pale blonde haired woman, who was looking at her not with fear, but instead with annoyance; as if a stranger in her home was no more than an inconvenience.  
After a moment’s pause, Carmilla realised that there was no plausible explanation she could offer the stranger for materialising in her apartment, so she decided the most sensible thing to do in this situation was to, very responsibly, run away. With her hand firmly over the pocket that held the time machine’s contact device, she darted past the girl and knocked her into the door frame in the process. She thought she heard the woman yell something at her, but the front door was already closing behind her by this point and she was on the type of mission that didn’t have any time she could allot to courtesies such as apologising and trying harder not to (technically) break and enter other peoples’ property. 

Carmilla made her way out onto her street; although, she supposed, it wasn’t really hers at this point. Her street, eight year old Carmilla’s street, was just on the outskirts of town, right where the ice cream colour buildings ended and stretches of grass could still be seen. 

The Silas countryside. There hadn’t been much of it, just a few fields laced with sleepy dust filled roads that eventually led to the motorways; out of Silas and into the rest of the world. She and Ell used to play there, kicking rabbit droppings as if they were footballs as they raced each other back and forth across the turf. There was no point thinking about it now, the little country side Silas had left had been colonised by shops and housing the time Carmilla turned ten. If she’d had more time, she’d have liked to go back there. To see it one more time. 

But, she thought, there was little point in that. There’s no point going back to the past if you can’t change anything. All you’re doing is looking at something that can never be yours again. It’s like trying to hold hands with a ghost.

The walk to the beach took around five minutes and consisted merely of her walking down the straight, ongoing street. The simple nature of the journey allowed her to take in the scene, which admittedly was pretty quiet as January isn’t exactly peak season for the seaside. She watched her breath escape and run into the cold, there was something strangely appealing about a part of her being here forever. Back when everything made sense and people who were meant to be alive still were and crocs weren’t popular (it was just all round a better time). It was strange too, that the breaths she took here would forever hang in this air; they were evidence she’d been here even though, just like her presence, no one would ever know about it.

Grey clouds were beginning to creep over her head as she reached the end of the road and the stretch of sand began to come into sight. The storm was approaching. Carmilla estimated she probably had just over twenty minutes before she went back to her timeline. She didn’t have much time. There was one question she hadn’t quite managed to solve: how exactly could she stop Ell from going into the water? Kids had a tendency to be trusting, but a strange adult pulling a child to the side and telling them they’d die if they enter the water might be too bold of a challenge to that naivety. 

Carmilla arrived at the top of the steps leading down to the shore; looking out onto the beach she saw a few small groups of people on the sand, as well as a few in the water. It was mostly people with boards. January may have been a strange time for the beach for the majority, but it brought the best waves. It was a pretty popular Silas tradition to bring your kid down during this time and teach them to surf, the mayor had even held surfing events in the past; there had been one held in memory of Ell about a month after her death, or so she’d heard, Carmilla didn’t go. She felt it was a bullshit occasion dedicated to remembering what killed her rather than the type of person she was.  
There were two girls in matching wet suits surrounded by sand castles, one brunette and one dirty blonde. Carmilla suddenly began to feel sick, as if before she hadn’t really realised that she was back here. It suddenly felt so real now. The overwhelming smell of salt, the break of the waves, eight year old Carmilla, and Ell. 

What if she couldn’t save her? 

What if she just ended up reliving this day all over again?

Here she was, holding her fate in her hands and yet those _fucking_ what ifs were still plaguing her. 

She made her way down the steps, her hands fumbled for the railing as she pressed against the wind which was starting to pick up. By the time she had reached the sand, a couple people had left the water. No doubt the girl was still in there. Some people were further out than others, you’d think people would be cautious in weather like this, but if anything it encouraged them to be cocky. Even if she knew who the girl was, there’d be no way she’d be able to find her in the waves, let alone get them both out alive. The only people she could see from where she was looked at least twenty, how Ell had even managed to spot another child in the water was completely beyond her. 

She made her way along the beach. People took no notice of her; most were moving their stuff further up the sands as the tide came in. There were two Carmillas on the beach right now, past and present. The future Carmilla was yet to be known, maybe she’d be unrecognisable after saving Ell. Maybe she would have been to the places in their travel book- or at least Paris; she hoped they’d been to Paris. 

She stopped a few yards short of where past-Carmilla and Ell were playing. It was good to see her again. Laughing her head off as past-Carmilla draped seaweed over her head and pretended it was hair. They were in their own little world. Carmilla couldn’t remember what she and Ell had been talking about before everything happened, but maybe that was for the best. The last game her and Ell played together remained untouched by her death, a moment of bliss meant for two eight year olds and no one else. 

“What’s that?” Ell had turned away from past-Carmilla and stabbed her finger at the sea. “Is that kid meant to be out that far?”

Both Carmilla and Past-Carmilla followed Ell’s arm to look where she was pointing. The sea had emptied considerably now. To someone just glancing at it, it looked as if no one were in there. But Carmilla saw her. The girl. The cause of all of this. She must’ve lost her board, perhaps went swimming and drifted further than she’d intended. Carmilla could barely make out her body, just her red swimming cap. 

“Oh!” past-Carmilla leapt up, “Let’s go get your Mom!”

Ell shook her head, “She went across the road to buy ice cream. We don’t need her anyway.” She began to scramble to her feet, “Are you coming?”

“Coming where?” Past-Carmilla crinkled her nose in confusion, as she followed Ell’s gaze her mouth went into an ‘o’ shape. “I-I’m not going in there, it’s not safe! I can’t swim as well as you.” She hung her head somewhat dejectedly.

“You’re such a baby!” Ell laughed at her, “Well. You can stay here on the shore with all the other cowards and I’ll be the hero!” She rolled her eyes, “You’re so boring sometimes.”

“I’m not.” Past-Carmilla mumbled, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“She’s right.” Carmilla jumped in, walking hurriedly over to them, “You’re not to go in that water, you hear me?” She stood in front of Ell, towering over the girl.

Ell looked a little intimidated, “I don’t know you.” She sat back down and shrunk against Past-Carmilla.

“You’re right. You don’t.” Carmilla agreed, “But I need you to listen to me. Both of you, okay? The tide’s not safe when it’s this strong. Do not go swimming in this weather. Under any circumstances.” She could feel herself shaking. What if Ell didn’t listen to her? What was she going to do, grab an eight year old in public?

Past-Carmilla was narrowing her eyes at her now, “You can’t tell her what to do! She’s a really good swimmer; she got her gold certificate last month! And what the girl or boy in the water?”

“It’s a buoy. You know, the plastic things they put out to help sailors. People are gonna think you’re a pretty big idiot if you go out trying to save a sphere of plastic.”

Ell narrowed her eyes, “I’m not an idiot! I know what I saw!” She yelled indignantly.

“It’s a buoy trust me. Now go find your Mom and get out of this weather, it’s freezing and-“

“Why should I listen to you?” Ell challenged, her eyes gleamed. She wasn’t worried about the girl in the water, the idea that she’d drown hadn’t even crossed her mind. It was just a game to her, Carmilla knew that. She’s just a kid. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into.

“Because I’m an adult and you’re a child and you WILL do what I say!” She snapped.

“You sound like my Mom.” Past-Carmilla mumbled.

God. She fucking did. 

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. But you cannot go into that water. I need you to trust me, okay? It’s not safe and I need you to listen to me.”  
“She’s right.” Carmilla heard her past-self whisper to Ell, “Don’t go in.”

Carmilla let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, “It’s cold. Pretty sure it’s going to storm. Everyone’s leaving. You need to get yourselves inside.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ell’s Mom coming down the steps with a couple cones in one hand and an umbrella in the other. “Is that your Mom?”

Ell looked over, “Yeah, it is!” She said excitedly, “Carm, c’mon! Let’s go!” She scrambled to her feet and began to run over to her Mom.

Past-Carmilla paused before following Ell, giving Carmilla a long look. “You kinda look like me.”  
“You have brown eyes and brown hair. Half the town looks like you. Go get your icecream, kid.”  
Carmilla watched the two girls run for their icecream. Maybe she should feel bad, condemning someone else’s kid to die. But why should Ell die because of another girl’s stupidity? This was not the time to start questioning her morals. She didn’t know that girl, it was sad but it wasn’t her loss. It wasn’t her fault the girl was in the sea and she had to remember that.

She looked behind her and up at the town hall and checked the time on the large clock face. Just after quarter past. It was around now that Ell and the other girl had been spotted in the water. She should really find somewhere quiet to go back to her own timeline now, she could see Ell, her Mom and herself disappearing into the distance with their icecream cones now. There wasn’t any cause for concern. They wouldn’t mention her, that’d mean Ell telling her Mom that she had planned to enter the water during an impending storm. The water was rough now, the rain had begun to spit down. She wasn’t sure exactly when it started, she found herself watching the little red cap bobbing above the water and then disappearing again. 

“No, I haven’t seen your daughter. What does she look like?” Carmilla caught wind of a conversation happening a few yards away from her. Two men, one was stout with a frantic look on his face.

The girl’s father. She couldn’t do this.

She walked quickly back towards the steps, the man’s voice was becoming louder. 

“Christ. Jesus fucking Christ. I thought she’d come out of the water already, I- I- I-“

He was distraught. Maybe the girl would be fine. Maybe the girl didn’t need Ell helping her, maybe Ell just got unlucky in the water and the girl would live either way. 

“Shit, I think I see her.” The other voice responded, “Red cap? Look over there, left of the rocks!” The few people left on the beach were starting to gather now.

Carmilla walked faster, she placed her hands over her ears. She didn’t look back. She didn’t want to hear anymore. She didn’t want to see what happened next. 

_It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t her fault._

It felt like her body had been filled with stone, everything was heavy. It felt like her stomach was dragging along the ground as she walked. 

All she’d really done was trade one life for another. Transfer the grief of Ell’s Mom to that girl’s dad. Had that girl still been in Silas in her time line? Maybe she’d walked past her before. Maybe she’d worked in one of the many shops that dotted the streets. Maybe she’d made it out, got herself together and made it to Paris, London or Tokyo. 

There was no way of knowing. Not really. She was probably dead by now. She wasn’t going to go back to the beach and check. It was time to go back to her life now. Back to LaFontaine, back to Perry’s, back to Laura and, finally, back to Ell. 

( . . . )

Carmilla had expected to arrive back in LaF’s lab. Instead it was a completely unrecognisable room that materialised in front of her. She didn’t know all that much about time travel, but the only reason she could think of for this was that altering time had somehow meant that the Carmilla she was now would not have been in LaFontaine’s lab at four thirty. The new Carmilla would’ve been here, wherever this was. The control for the time machine was also not in her pocket, why her changes would’ve caused that to disappear didn’t make sense either. Did she no longer have access to LaF’s machine because she saved Ell? Would this Carmilla have never hijacked the machine?

She was no longer synced to the machine, so it’s not like it would’ve had any use anyway. 

She’d never been to this room before, and yet she somehow knew this Carmilla had. She could feel it in the way she felt completely comfortable, as if she could shed her clothes and run around the whole apartment and not feel the least bit of unease. Not that she was going to do that- but it was strange, this feeling of inhibition in a place so alien to her. She didn’t feel as if she were trespassing, she somehow knew she was meant to be here.

The room she was in was small, pretty much everything was touching something else, and yet it didn’t feel claustrophobic but cosy. There was one sofa, a couple lamps and a number of shelves loaded with succulents, books and photos. Carmilla walked around the room, picking up each photoframe and examining it. She was in all of them, smiling next to a young woman with peroxide blonde hair. In the back of her mind, she felt a flicker of recognition. This is the Carmilla she would’ve been had Ell still been alive, this is the life she would’ve led; the life she _should’ve_ led. The girl next to her in the photos must’ve been Ell, it had to be her. She was barely recognisable, considering the dyed hair, nose piercing and the fact she’d aged thirteen years. Carmilla glanced around the small apartment- did they live here together?

Carmilla explored the rest of the apartment, admittedly there wasn’t much to explore, her tampering with the past clearly hadn’t made her any less broke (although she was one Ell richer so she couldn’t really complain). Other than the sitting room, there was a kitchen and, to Carmilla’s surprise, only one bedroom. Had there been no other apartments available that had more than one bedroom? Or were they just the type of best friends that liked living on top of one another like rats in a cage?  
God, she hoped not. If this Carmilla was one of those girls who wore clothes to match her friends’ she’d take a run at the sea herself. 

She sat on the bed and looked around, her bedroom was a lot cleaner than it had been in her previous timeline? She wondered if this Carmilla was neater than her, she didn’t see why. Ell probably cleaned up after her. She smiled. Ell had always been like that. Competitive and dominant- she didn’t ever remember regarding it as a bad thing, just that Ell had tended to be more particular about things. Not like Carmilla, she’d always seen the floor as just another storage unit which had the added benefited of not requiring any construction. You could just chuck stuff wherever; organised chaos, she liked to call it. Not that LaFontaine ever agreed when she told them that. They were kind of a neat freak like Ell in that respect.

She froze.

Did this Carmilla even know LaFontaine?

She’d met them when she was looking for a place to live, so logically she could see no reason why she would. Maybe she’d still lived with them before moving in with Ell, but that seemed unlikely. 

This killed her buzz a little bit. Of course she knew about the butterfly affect, how one change leads to another and another and another. But it wasn’t something she’d really been thinking about at the time. LaFontaine had been really good to her. It had taken a while for her to get them, for the first couple months of her living with them they’d acted as if she was about to up and leave. That’s when it had dawned on her that most people probably didn’t stick around long enough to even _begin_ to get them. But she’d stayed. She might’ve pretended to herself it was because she needed the place to live (which was true), but LaFontaine became a huge part of the apartment’s appeal. She didn’t really realise how much she valued their friendship until she didn’t have it anymore. 

Maybe she could ask Laura about them and fix the hiccup, re-establish her friendships. When she went in for her shift at Perry’s tomorrow she’d ask Laura if-  
She realised then that she probably didn’t work there anymore. Laura and Perry were both LaFontaine’s friends; they’d heard about the job from them and told Carmilla, knowing she needed a job over the summer. That’s just how it was in Silas, things weren’t particularly stable. You tended to change jobs a lot. Carmilla wondered where, if not at Perry’s, she worked now. 

Then Carmilla realised something else (she really didn’t like this continuous chain of realisations): if she didn’t work at Perry’s now, then she probably didn’t know Laura.

_Fuck._

She knew she’d only known her just over a month. But there were people she’d known several years and wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable with as she was with Laura. Laura was different. She always shared so much, and yet Carmilla felt like she knew so little about her; she’d secretly craved every detail of the stories she’d pretended to be utterly disinterested in when Laura told them to her. Where Carmilla saw obstacles, Laura saw puzzles and it was her God-given duty to solve them. She was the most dissimilar to Carmilla a person could be. Laura walked around with no walls up, Carmilla bet she’d never even considered buying the bricks to build them, and all her doors and windows open. She was so trusting. So warm. 

And Carmilla had tampered with her life without a second thought.

Admittedly, it was in a relatively small way. All she’d done was remove her from Laura’s life, it’s not like she could really be considered a loss. But it still felt like a violation- both of Laura and of LaF. This isn’t the type of control a person should have. She’d traded in her friendship with LaFontaine and her…Laura, and for what, exactly? What type of person even was Ell? Carmilla thought back to how she was at the beach. She’d been pretty mean to Past-Carmilla, if she was honest. She knew kids could be like that, but come to think of it, Ell had always been that way. 

Carmilla only knew Ell, her childhood friend. She didn’t know this Ell. Come to think of it, this Ell was a stranger to her.  
She lay on the bed for a long time. She fell asleep once or twice, drifting in and out. Both times she woke up and was momentarily confused about where she was. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the bedroom, but it was dark outside.

Suddenly, Carmilla heard the sound of the front door being opening in the other room. She sprung up from the bed and noticed her hands were clammy. She wiped them on her jeans, deliberating over whether to go out and greet her.

“Carm? Are you in?”

Carmilla took a deep breath and went through door and out into the main living space.  
And there she was. She’d had trouble when looking at her in the photos, but when she was standing there in front of her, somehow Carmilla knew it was her. “Here I am”, she expected to sound nonchalant, but the sentence came out as more of a whisper.

“Are you helping me bring all this is or not?” Ell asked impatiently, gesturing to several bags of groceries Carmilla hadn’t even realised were there.

“Oh. Um, yeah. Sure.” She picked up a bag in each hand and headed through to the kitchen. Good thing she’d looked around before Ell had got there, getting lost in a four room apartment would definitely arouse some suspicion. 

Carmilla helped Ell with the rest of the bags pretty much in silence, taking every opportunity she could to look at her. It was like the second she took her eyes off her, she’d disappear. Ell had been talking the whole time, but she hadn’t really been listening. She was too busy looking. Checking was real and then double checking, triple checking…and so on and on. Essentially making sure she hadn’t just gone a little mad. 

“What about you?”  
Carmilla looked up to meet Ell’s eyes, “Pardon?”

“I asked how your day was- Carm, what’s with you? You’re barely talking.” Ell furrowed her brows at her, “Is there shit on my face or something? You keep staring.”  
Carmilla shook her head, “No, there’s not.” She wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. What would this Carmilla say? She wasn’t sure. They probably had a million inside jokes she’d missed out on. There was no way she could say something this Carmilla would say, so instead she settled for the truth, “It’s just really good to see you. I missed you, Ell.” It felt strange to say her name out loud again. 

Ell looked at her with a fond smile, “Carmilla Karnstein, are you getting clingy?” She closed the space between them and wrapped her arms round Carmilla’s waist.

Carmilla did the same. She felt real. She _was_ real. 

“You’re the one clinging to me like a spider monkey.” Carmilla pointed out nervously as Ell rested her forehead against hers. She wasn’t entirely sure where this is going.

“I know we don’t spend as much time together as we used to. I’m sorry.” Ell bit her lip, “We keep missing each other with our shifts. But I get in late a lot, I know that.”

“Um. Don’t worry about it.”

Ell gave her a small smile again, “What I’m saying is, I miss you too.” And with that her eyes closed and she landed a soft kiss on Carmilla’s lips.

Oh, Carmilla thought, that explained why there was only one bed then.

“Well, obviously. Have you seen me?” Carmilla put on a smirk the best she could and casually leant out of Ell’s arms. Maybe this Carmilla would’ve kissed her back. Maybe she would’ve been irritated by the fact that they don’t see each other and started a fight over it. But she wasn’t that Carmilla. This was a timeline that was never meant to exist, and she didn’t know how to play this new part. Her heart didn’t feel the way it was supposed to. 

Ell, however, didn’t know this. She snorted in response to Carmilla comment, “You’re such an asshole.”

Carmilla made a point of glancing at her pale skin, “Pretty bleached asshole.” 

This got her another smile, but there was no joy in getting it. In fact, it made her angry because she should give a shit. This is the life she had longed for, and now she had it and she was being anything but grateful for it.

She focused on Ell. 

_That’s Ell_ , Carmilla told herself. _She’s your best friend, she’s your girlfriend, and most importantly, she’s alive and with you. The other losses are fixable, you can track down LaFontaine and Laura. They’re here in Silas too and you can fix it._

“Do you want a coffee?” Carmilla found herself saying. “You look tired.”

Ell leaned against the tower, exhaling slowly, “Thanks, Carm. God, sometimes I don’t know what I was thinking. Night classes and a job?” She ran her hand through her hair.

“One step closer to Paris.” Carmilla replied without thinking.

“Paris?” Ell looked at her, mystified. “You planning some secret trip to France I don’t know about?”

“Well, no.” Carmilla felt confused. “We just always said we wanted to go, remember? Paris, London and Tokyo. In our travel book.”

“You know something? I’d completely forgotten about that.” Ell shook her head in amusement, “I’m surprised you remember, come to think of it.”

It was Carmilla’s turn to be mystified, “Why?”

“Well, you’re the one who suggested we chuck that kind of stuff out. Said those boxes were taking up too much space. Don’t you remember?”

Carmilla forced herself to smile, “Now I do. Sorry, I’m tired too. I’ll start that coffee.”

Ell sleepily thanked her again as she shuffled off into the other room.

_She’d chucked out their travel book?_

Carmilla shook her head to herself as she filled the kettle and set it to boil. Surely she couldn’t have. All their dreams were in there, all their future plans. And she’d chucked them away for the extra storage space. It wasn’t just new Ell that was a stranger, Carmilla realised, it was this new Carmilla too. She’d been so desperate to leave Silas before, jumping from job to job. In a weird way, Ell’s loss of life had inspired her to get hers together. Now that Ell was here, it sounded like she’d been perfectly content with holing up in Silas for the rest of her life. She remembered Ell mentioning how their shifts caused them to miss each other; at least she still had a job in this timeline.  
The kettle pinged, interrupting her session of bitterly criticising new Carmilla’s life. She made the coffee in silence, and took it into the other room.

Ell was lounging on the sofa, the television burbled but Carmilla was unsure if she was watching it, “You awake?”

“Yeah. C’mere.” Ell held her arms out to her.

Carmilla set the two mugs down on the table and sank into the sofa, settling into Ell’s embrace, “I can’t believe you’re here.” She mumbled.

Ell playfully nudged her, “I’m away a lot. I get it. Excuse me for having an education.”

Carmilla leant against Ell’s shoulder, “That’s not what I meant.”

She waited for Ell to ask her what she meant, but the question didn’t come. After about a minute of silence Carmilla straightened up and looked over at the other woman. She’d fallen asleep.

Carmilla switched off the television and scooped Ell up, trying not to wake her. They were around the same height and build, so carrying her to the bedroom wasn’t much of an issue. She lay Ell on the left side of the bed. 

A buzzing noise came from Ell’s pocket. For a moment Carmilla wondered who could be texting her so late at night.  
Then she remembered her own phone. You could tell a lot about a person from their phone. For instance: where they worked. She’d have her employer on there, she was sure. She could also check for Laura and LaFontaine. She saw it on the bedside table and snatched it up, opening the contacts. There were a lot more people on there than there had been before. She’d been kind of detached in her old timeline. A lot of these people were probably friends she’d met through Ell. She paused in the B section, in it there was a contact named ‘Betty Spielsdorf (Work)’. She’d google that name in a moment. 

She carried on scrolling until she reached the ‘L’ section (she could’ve searched the names, but it was oddly satisfying seeing how many more people she knew). Under ‘L’ there was ‘Lilita’ (Still Lilita rather than Mother, Carmilla noted. Turns out Mother was a bitch in every timeline. Shocker.) and a Lucy. But no LaFontaine.  
And no Laura.

_God fucking dammit._

( . . . )

Betty Spielsdorf had turned out to be a manager at one of Silas’ many restaurants, which Carmilla had discovered through a quick google search. She also found out that Betty was a very nice person, who wished her a swift recovery when Carmilla had phoned in saying she was sick. Which of course, she wasn’t, but she needed to find Laura and LaFontaine. She needed people to talk to that she actually felt like she knew.

Laura was top of her list.

She’d felt a little disorientated trying to adjust to the journey from her new apartment to Perry’s, but it wasn’t a major setback. She’d gotten there in decent time. She pushed open the door to Perry’s and hated how glad she felt to be back there. It was only yesterday that she’d loathed everything about having to be there (okay, give or take a certain girl). 

“Good morning!” Perry sounded chirpily from the counter, which she was attacking with a duster.

Carmilla smiled. Some things don’t change. “Good morning. “ She looked around for Laura. She was usually the one at the front desk, but there was no sign of her.  
“You look like you’re looking for something.” Perry observed. 

“Someone, actually.” Carmilla corrected her, “I need to speak to one of your employees, is that okay?” She’d never been this polite to Perry in her life, not even when she was being paid.

“Um, okay! We aren’t exactly busy as you can see.” She tittered nervously, glancing around the shop as if she hoped some customers would materialise if she did. “Who was it you wanted? Ell or-“

_Ell works here now? Instead of her?_

“Laura.” Carmilla interrupted, “Laura Hollis. Is she here?”

Perry gave her a confused look, “There isn’t a…Laura employed here. I think you’ve got my shop confused with someplace else.”

Carmilla gawked at her, “What? No, I haven’t. She works here. I know she does. Can you check?”

Perry gave her a confused look, “You want me to check my two employees to make sure one of them isn’t your friend?” She repeated back to her.

“I-“ Carmilla shook her head, “No. Sorry, you’re right, I got confused with someplace else. Thanks.” She turned on her heel and made her way quickly out of the shop before Ell could come out of the storage room and question her on why she was there.

Well, Carmilla thought, what now? She had no means of calling Laura, and it seemed as though her tampering with time had caused her job to change. Although she wasn’t sure why that would be. With Ell it at least made some sense. She didn’t know LaFontaine, so she never heard about the job at Perry’s for herself. Ell most likely saw it advertised on one of the bulletin boards by the town hall. 

Carmilla suddenly remembered when the conversation she’d had over text with Laura before she’d altered everything. She couldn’t remember the house number Laura said she was at, but she was pretty sure she’d told her she lived at Briddlesford Road. She knew that road, it was on the other side of town but she could get there by bus in about half an hour. Even if Laura wasn’t in, Carmilla knew for a fact that she lived with her Dad, she’d mentioned him a few times a work. 

She could always try and wait with him till Laura came home.

( . . . )

Carmilla couldn’t remember the number of Laura’s house, so she started at number one. The first three attempts were completely unsuccessful. No one had seemed to have heard of Laura, which to Carmilla seemed a little odd as she’d always assumed everyone at least knew the names of their neighbours. Especially someone as personable as Laura.  
Still, she didn’t let this sway her as she approached the door of number four. She knocked and waited and was greeted by a large man with grey stubble, whose face had a familiarity she couldn’t quite work out. “Um, hello.”

“Can I help you?” He looked at her somewhat warily. He didn’t seem like someone who was used to visitors, or even leaving the house, in fact.

“Are you…” Carmilla paused for a moment, trying to remember Laura’s father’s name, “Sherman? Sherman Hollis?”

He gave her a brisk nod, “That I am.” He squinted at her, “Have we met before? I’m sorry, I really don’t recognise you.”

Carmilla laughed, “No, we don’t know each other. I know your daughter, Laura. Is she in?”

All the warmth and greeting suddenly drained from Sherman's face. He stared at her with a down turned mouth, “What did you just say?” He asked in a low voice.

“I’m looking for Laura. Your daughter.” Carmilla repeated. _Was he stupid?_

He glared at her, he looked as if he might cry, or punch her. Carmilla wasn’t sure which was prospect scared her more. “I don’t have a daughter. Not anymore.” He paused, his whole body shaking, “Is this some kind of fucking joke to you? Why would you think this is funny? My little girl drowned years ago. I know you know that...the whole damn town knows!”

He slammed the door in Carmilla’s face.


End file.
